


Why, Who Cares?

by RobotCryBaby



Series: Whirlwinds [5]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lost Light, Minor Violence, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:34:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24026689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobotCryBaby/pseuds/RobotCryBaby
Summary: Whirl doesn't understand so he deals with it as he always has. Rung is there to help pull him back up.
Relationships: Cyclonus & Tailgate & Whirl (Transformers), Rung & Whirl (Transformers)
Series: Whirlwinds [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574353
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	Why, Who Cares?

**Author's Note:**

> Can be read as part of the series or separately.

Another short yet devastating battle had ended for the Lost Light and although they had sustained no casualties, no mech left the battle unscathed. Least of all Whirl. He’d been confused lately. Tailgate and Cyclonus had been going out of their way to interact with him, joining him for drinks at Swerve’s, making sure he attended game night. Even coming up to him in the halls of the Lost Light and striking up a conversation between shifts. It was weird. Whirl didn’t like it. He wasn’t used to this. 

For the life of him he couldn’t figure out their angle. He didn’t have much to offer that Cyclonus wasn’t already capable of doing in terms of fighting and “protection”. Every other bot on the ship was more emotionally and mentally stable than him and it’s not like he had a great track record that appealed to people. He thought maybe they pitied him. Tailgate definitely was the type to go out of his way to be nice to someone who definitely didn’t deserve it, but not Cyclonus. Unless the big lurch had felt a sort of fucked-up debt to Whirl. Cyclonus  _ had _ said that Whirl was the one that saved Tailgate, which was a load of slag. Cyclonus saved Legs, Whirl was just there to cause problems to begin with.

So, until he could figure out their motives, Whirl avoided the two mechs. Whirl liked the two well enough, and would maybe possibly go so far as to call them “ _ friends _ ” but like hell that was reciprocated. Whirl knew better.

Whirl had been drowning in his processor for a while now, sticking to himself like he had always done. Only now it only seemed to make Whirl more frustrated. And despite working with Rung for quite some time, even going so far as to say he’d made a small bit of positive progress, he still didn’t handle frustration well. So, he fell back into old habits.

Old habits die hard, as they say; though Whirl takes great pride in reminding himself that although he’s still being a destructive ass, he’s kept his promise not to hurt himself or start unnecessary fights. Which is why, when the sirens went off and Rodimus announced to the crew to prepare for a fight, Whirl had jumped into the fray immediately.

Whirl was back in his element. He felt at home on the front lines of the battle, finally allowing his processor to think clearly. After taking out two enemies he spun around to see an injured Tailgate shielded behind Cyclonus, who looked worse for wear, being surrounded by enemies.

Whirl knew that the Ex-Decepticon was more than capable of handling himself, but he also knew that when it really came down to it, he’d sacrifice himself in an instant for the minibot cowering behind him. If that happened, Whirl didn’t know if he could stand the sight of Tailgate’s sad little faceplate moping around the Lost Light. And, Primus forbid, if Cyclonus wasn’t able to protect Tailgate, well...Whirl knew the guy would lose it, and for whatever reason, Whirl just couldn’t let either of those things happen. So he did what he did best.

Immediately, he pounced on top of the enemy closest to Cyclonus, drilling shot after shot into their helm. This maneuver only cost him two blaster shots to the back. 

_ Worth it.  _ He thought as he spun around and continued to throw himself at the group surrounding the three. It seemed like no time at all before it was just Whirl, Cyclonus and Tailgate standing in silence, surrounded by the corpses Whirl had decimated. He felt light headed, probably from the adrenaline. He stumbled slightly as he looked around at the rest of the crew. His leg felt off, probably dislocated at some point.

He looked down at himself and saw a mangled mess of metal that obviously used to be his left leg.  _ Huh, guess it’s not dislocated. _ His cockpit glass was shattered to near nothing and his arms and torso were covered in energon. Probably equal parts his and the slag heaps’ he beat to a pulp.

Tailgate seemed to say something, though Whirl couldn’t make out the words. It didn’t really matter, he figured, as he cackled loudly and took off in the direction of what remained of the battle. The two of them looked fine now anyway.

Now he was back on the Lost Light, making his way towards his habsuite. All his joints hurt and he could hear the plating on his legs clicking and scraping against each other. 

_ At least I’m not leaking energon anymore.  _ He glanced down the hall he had just come from, noticing a light pink trail leading exactly to him.  _ Well, not much anyways. _ He huffed before continuing down the hall. 

He was exhausted, looking forward to collapsing in his berth and sleeping until Swerve’s opened later in the night cycle. He should probably refuel first, considering even before the battle it had been quite some time. But he hadn’t recharged even longer than he had refuelled so it was a moot point. He was just about to activate the door to his habsuite when he was interrupted by a mech rounding the corner.

“Whirl!” It was Rodimus.  _ Slag. _ Whirl vented slowly, trying to calm himself like Rung had taught him. “I need to talk to you.”

“Can’t you frag off, I’ll get my report to Magnus eventually.” Whirl sighed.

“What? No, it’s not about that. Plus we both know you’re not going to do it anyway.” Rodimus looked at him with a slight frown. Whirl assumed he was just tired and probably drew the short straw in having to come confront the rotary. Whirl hoped it would be quick. He turned to face his captain, well co-captain really, causing Rodimus to take in a sharp breath.

Rodimus studied Whirl’s frame, lingering on his injuries. If Whirl was a dumber mech he would’ve said that Rodimus looked concerned for him.  _ Ha. _

“Have you been to medbay yet?” Rodimus asked as he reached out to touch Whirl, who recoiled back slightly.

“You tell me, Hotshot. Does it look like I’ve been to medbay? Now, if you’re just here to ask stupid questions you can frag off cause I’m gonna recharge.” Whirl punched the button and opened the door to his habsuite, taking care to block Rodimus’ view of the inside. The last thing Whirl wanted was to show off his wrecked room and the pile of crushed clocks that were piled in the corner.

“Whirl, you really need to go to medbay. You look terrible.” Rodimus frowned.

“As opposed to how I usually look?” Whirl joked back though his words contained a bite. “I’ve already used 9 of my 10 punch cards for medical visits, and I’m saving my last one for when I’m really hurt. So why don’t you take whatever concern you think you need to have for me, shove it up your aft, and go away.” Whirl waved his claw dismissively, making it hard for Rodimus to want to stick around.

Rodimus was refusing to rise to the bait. “Ratchet makes you limit how many times you go to medbay?”

Whirl synthesized a scoff. “Nah, that old geezer refuses to even work on me anymore. He has terrible bed-side manner anyway.” 

“Well, I’ll make sure to bring it up with Magnus, then we can-”

“Why?” Whirl cut him off, optic narrowing into a piercing glare.

“Well if this is a problem for everyone, then-”

  
  
“It ain’t. If it were, ya would of heard of it by now.” Whirl stepped closer taking a menacing stance. “Not what I asked.”

Rodimus made sure to stand his ground, not stepping back but also didn’t meet him with an offensive stance. “Then, why what?”

“Why the frag you tryin' so hard to get me to go to medbay. What the hell are you after?” Whirl’s limits were being tested. He didn’t understand. Most bots would’ve left by now and let him be. Honestly, most bots wouldn’t have bothered with him in the first place. Rodimus used to be like that too, but why did he care now.

“You’re hurt.” Rodimus stated matter-of-factly.

“And?”

Rodimus stared up at him, optics wide with surprise. Whirl had just about had enough. 

“Look, whatever sort of misplaced duty you think you have as co-captain of this shithole, you can shove it. I don’t need you looking out for me. Now, why don’t you go bother some other mech, hand out more of those stupid  _ good job _ stars.” Whirl jabbed him in the shoulder, causing him to take a step back. Before Rodimus got the chance to retort, Whirl had retreated and locked the door to his habsuite.

_________

It was well into the night cycle when his comm went off, disrupting his already restless recharge. He tried to ignore it but it seemed as though whoever was pinging him was deadset on reaching him. 

_ Frag. _ Whirl angrily answered. “What?”

“Whirl,” the soft voice of the doctor greeted his audials. “I’m outside your habsuite, may I come in?”

Whirl sighed but got up and opened the door to reveal a concerned looking Rung. “Did I forget about some appointment again?” He asked as he resumed his seat on the berth.

Rung looked at him, wringing his fingers slightly in a way that Whirl had come to understand as a sign of the doc thinking. “No, I just wanted to check in on you. I heard that was quite a battle.”

“Awe, you worried about me, Doc? That’s so sweet.” Whirl laughed, attempting to lighten the mood. But Rung was having none of it. He took a small step towards him, the door remaining open behind him, ensuring that Whirl didn’t feel trapped. He hated how Rung was always so considerate. Or at least he told himself that he hated it.

“Of course I’m concerned for you.”

“Well, it is your fragging job.” Whirl tried to blow off the comment, but saw a flicker of deep sadness and hurt across Rung’s features. And well if that didn’t feel like a giant stab to Whirl’s spark.

Rung took a steadying breath before producing a cube of energon from his subspace along with a bright curly straw. “I brought you something to refuel. I know you probably haven’t since you returned.” Rung looked up at Whirl expectantly.

How could Whirl refuse that look.  _ Damn. _ Whirl gingerly took the offered cube in his claw and maneuvered it so the straw was inserted to the intake at the back of his helm. He shifted his optic, unable to maintain eye contact with Rung as he refuelled. It was always weird, refuelling in front of others when not absolutely drunk off his not-face; they either stared like he was some sort of freak show or avoided looking at him entirely when he did so. Whirl still wasn’t sure which he disliked more.

But Rung did neither of those things. He continued to look at Whirl with that same soft expression he always did, as if it were normal to refuel with the back of your head from a cube held by killer sharp claws.

Whirl didn’t know if he liked that either. Being looked at like he was normal. But it’s what Rung did so he’d put up with it for now.

Silence continued between them as he finished off the last dregs of the energon, slurping loudly into the empty container. Whirl made sure to make a dramatic lip-smacking sound as he removed the cube and handed it back to Rung.

“That hit the spot! ‘M feeling better already!” Whirl curved his optic into his version of a “smile”, though forced it may be, hoping Rung would be satisfied enough and go back to doing more important things. Yet Rung had no intention of moving. “Well, thanks for stopping by. Loved the chat, but I gotta recharge and you probably got lots of slag to do so-”

“Whirl.” Rung calmly interrupted him. “It’s okay to let people care about you.”

Whirl scoffed. “That ain’t how it works, Doc.”

“Why not?” Rung asked innocently. Whirl scowled at him. He stood up and quickly closed his habsuite door so no lingering weirdos would overhear.

“It just don’t.” Whirl refused to look at him as he sat back on the berth.

“You have people that  _ you _ care about.” Rung stated as though it were fact. Whirl bristled with anger.

“Maybe you got hit in the head or something cause that’s the biggest load of slag I’ve ever heard.”

“If certain bots on this ship had not returned from our last battle, I know you would have been upset. Regardless of what you may call these feelings or relationships, I believe that you do care.”

Whirl huffed and crossed his arms in defiance, refusing to give an answer, but Rung knew he had won.

“So, if you are allowed to care, why are others not?” Rung looked at him patiently.

Whirl sighed. “Like I said, that's not how it works.”

“I know.” Rung said with a sad smile. “I understand where you are coming from. We both have been raked over the coals too many times. And I know you experienced it much more than I. And yes, perhaps allowing people to care about you will end badly. But it may not either.”

“But it could.” Whirl hisses.

“Yes, it could. And if it does, you have proven to others as well as yourself that you are resilient enough to overcome that.” Rung smiled. “And usually, if things do go well, it’s more fun that way.”

Whirl sat in silence, pondering what Rung had said. The guy had a point but Whirl still couldn’t quite grapple with the concept of people caring about him in the first place. Rung seemed to sense this.

“And perhaps the  _ why _ of it doesn’t matter. There may even be no answer to such a question. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still go along for the ride.” Rung’s optics twinkled, coolant slowly threatening to spill over.

“Pffft. I’m always down for a wild ride.” Whirl smiled mischievously, causing Rung to chuckle and wipe a stray tear, which Whirl pointedly chose to ignore. Although Whirl still didn’t quite believe everything, he could tell the Doc was really trying. And that meant enough to Whirl for him to try too.

Rung stood and moved to leave his habsuite. “Perhaps, you could accompany me to the medical bay? I have some reports to drop off for Ratchet and it appears that you’re overdue for a check-up.” He raised an eyebrow and smirked at the rotary.

“Ugh, fine.” Whirl stood and left with Rung. “If only to get you off my aft about it.” He nudged Rung’s shoulder lightly, his field flickering with a warm feeling.

Rung smiled to himself and continued walking. “Of course.”


End file.
